The King's Contest
by KindHeartedWriter
Summary: After a deadly plague hits Corona, Rapunzel and Eugene become the only members left of their families. The two are not the only ones who have lost loved ones. The king lost his wife and son, and hosts a contest for the remaining men of Corona to fight for the position of Prince. (Full summary coming soon) Tangled, slight AU.
1. After the Plague

Chapter One

Father peeks out from the windows. "The snow is sticking."

Mother sneezes and all eyes dart to her. The plague had cleaned the streets and the last few untouched houses were becoming infected. People lost homes and families.

"Stay in bed," Father advised, his green eyes very calm but his voice was shaking. He was nervous. He didn't want anyone else to catch it.

"I wanted to see the snow," Mother starts to say more but she starts coughing. She covers it with skill, moving her elbow to her face.

"I'll get the bread," Father says and his eyes go to me. "Stay in bed as well, Flower."

"I feel fine," I smile, though it twists into a frown when I watch Mother shakily walk to the bedroom. "Can I start the tea?"

Father's tense face relaxes. "Thank you."

"I'll be right back!" I curtsey. Father smiles brightly and bows. We always pretended to be royalty. Father's the King, Mother's the Queen, and I'm the Princess. Our servants are my little kitten Pascal. Pascal seems the carry the genes of the Mendel household, having green eyes close to emerald.

He follows me out into the snow, despite me telling him to go back inside.

"You're going to get a cold, too, Pascal," I chide him like Mother chides me. Pascal only meows and strolls up to me, his fur bushed out to keep warm.

I make my hand into a fist and pound at the snow, spitting hair from my face. My hair is brown for the moment, as it always is in winter. It's funny how summer lightens hair, and darkens the skin. There's less sun in the winter when it snows, so my hair darkens to chocolate brown. It's gold in the summer, my Father jokes about me being a sun flower's daughter because of the blond in it.

Pascal's fur changes to a light brown instead of the warm tawny it is now. Father's hair stays brown all year, and Mother's lightens to honey.

The Mendels are strange, sometimes I agree with the rumors that go around.

I feel a snowball hit me square in the back and I turn to see a group of young men and maidens laugh. They have shrunk in  
number, and I can't be happy. Some of them didn't make it to today; the plague claimed members of the group that never leaves me alone.

I force a smile, ignoring the hurt that fills my chest, and get to my feet, the pot now full of snow. Pascal's hiss no longer startles me. He doesn't like them either.

I struggle back to the house, my cloak doing little for my snow bitten hands. I forgot my mitts in the house by the stove. I'll sit by the stove after the tea boils to warm my hands.

Tea.

I am so cold. My breath, in a cloud in front of my pale face, billows out thickly. It's freezing outside and I hurry into the house.

The warmth of the fire reaches me as I walk toward the kitchen. Father fusses.

"Damn snow." I hear him growl.

"I thought the King doesn't swear!" I gasp in fake astonishment. Father whips around and then he relaxes. "Why so jumpy, your Highness?"

Father tries to relax his posture a little more. "I keep forgetting to lock the front door. Looters are roaming about."

"Still?" I place the pot on the stove. The people that are alive after the plague resort to stealing for the moment because they are too heart-broken to go back to work. At least, that's my reason for the looters.

"I talked to our Queen earlier," Father says, but I don't hear him, not too well. My mind is on the looters.

"Oh?" I mumble.

"She," I hear Father's voice darken. "She thinks she's. . ."

The looters don't have to kill people however. Father's best friend's brother was killed a month ago for defending his house from them. The looters are desperate, no longer caring for life because they lost their own when the plague arrived.

"How's Pascal?" Father asks and I jump, realizing that I had been lost in thought. Father's green eyes go to the tawny cat sitting by the fireplace.

"I don't know if cats can catch it," I say absently. The ice has turned to slush and I find a spoon. I whisk the ice, almost wanting to blow on it as if it would help it melt faster.

"Hope not." Father says, and then trying to joke, "we'd have to throw him out."

"He keeps the rats away," I pout, turning to Father, widening my eyes. "We can't."

"I'm kidding, Flower," Father pouts next. "Calm down."

We enter a duel, each trying to make the other one laugh. I pout, jutting out my lower lip, and then Father breaks into a crazy smile that makes his eyes crisscross and widen and I know I lost.

I break down into hysterical giggles and Father comes closer to me, making alternative versions of the face that made me lose.

"Stop it, stop it!" I gasp and cover my smiles. "I didn't lose!"

"Did to!" Father puts on a normal smile, and then he makes his eyes crisscross again.

At that moment, I hear Mother call for Father. Father's entire body stiffens. His green eyes darken and the smile leaves his face. He turns to look at me and he looks as if he wants to say something.

"Your Highness!" Mother then calls in a tone that makes Father's face drain of color. I watch him walk away from me, and into their room. He closes the door behind him.

I look at Pascal who is busy licking his cold paws.

Father has never acted that way before.

I turn to the melting snow and tell myself everything is fine.

* * *

Father comes back out an hour later, and pulls me to Mother's room without a word.

Mother lies on the bed, her eyes going straight to me.

"Darlin'," the soft way she spoke and the way her eyes gaze at me intently makes me scared. "Come here."

I obediently go to her side and grab her unscarred hand. Touching Mother was forbidden once Mother got it. Father says nothing, and I try to understand what's happening.

Her emerald eyes peer at mine. "I'm sorry, dear."

I don't understand.

"Why?" My voice breaks, and I whisper, "What's going on?"

"God's calling," Mother blinks and a lone tear falls onto her cheek. My eyes zoom in on the tear while I try to process her words.

"Mother," I mumble to her, "Mother, you can't."

"I have to, baby," Mother sniffles and her other hand goes to my hair. Her wrist is scarred but the palm of her hand is smooth when it goes to my face. "I'm sorry."

"Don't leave us." I cry, and the tears appear out of nowhere, blurring my vision. I blink them away furiously, trying to see her face. "Don't leave us."

"Flower," Mother says Father's nickname for me. "I love you, Flower."

I lay my head onto her chest, sobbing. "Mother, please."

Her hand on my cheek wipes the tears away.

The motion brings back memories, some long forgotten and some very recent. Mother smiling at me as I fell in a snow drift, Mother handing me a baby Pascal dressed with a little white ribbon around his neck, Mother and Father dancing in the middle of flower beds as summer warmed our skin and Pascal and I played.

Mother kissing me 'goodnight', Mother teaching me how to waltz, and then laughing when I knock her down. Mother teaching me how to braid my hair, Mother begging me not to cut it, Mother's green eyes when she addressed me as the princess she and Father called me.

Mother saying 'goodbye'.

I look up at her, and squeeze her hand.

"I love you," I mumble to her, and her eyes light up, like they always did. Like they used to before the plague.

Something changes in her face and her hand squeezes mine once.

"I love you, too, Princess." She smiles. "Flower Princess."

Father's hand goes to my shoulder. He knows what's coming and I don't.

"I will love you two," her eyes go to Father. "I will love you two forever."

It's at that moment when I notice the tearstains on her cheeks.

"So long, your Highness," she looks at my Father when she says it.

Her eyes go blank as she addresses me. The light is still there but my Mother is leaving.

"So long. . . Princess. . ." Her voice dies away and then the light is gone too.

It's at that moment when I realize that now only two people are breathing.

My mother is gone.

"You can't go." I say to her body firmly, and then a pain so unfamiliar stings my heart, flooding into every limb. I start to scream. "You can't go! You can't!"

Father's arms go around me and he pulls me away from Mother.

I scream and cry. "Don't go! Don't leave me! Mother, you said you could do it! You said you were fine!"

"Flower, Flower," Father coos in my ear and I ignore him, my eyes only on Mother's face. Somehow, Father knew. He knew, and he didn't tell me.

I don't care. I just want her back.

"Come back to me! Come back to me!" I struggle with Father.

My cries break the silence her death made.

"Mother, no! Mother, no, Mother, no!"

* * *

Father gets it, too. He shuts me away from him.

I make him tea and leave it at the door after knocking. I hear him rasp, "Thank you, Princess."

When I hear only silence, I enter Father's room to see Father writhing on the bed. I scream and hurtle myself on the bed with him, trying to grab his muscles and still them.

Father never let me see Mother have these.

When it is over, Father's in tears.

"I didn't want you to see that," Father whispers to me, his green eyes on my face.

"It's okay, your Highness," I say soothingly, though I want to be soothed. "The Princess can't be unaware of what happens."

Father says nothing else, only pull me to him and breathe the other way.

"I love you, Princess," Father says suddenly.

I snuggle into him, almost wanting to have what he and Mother caught.

"I love you, too, Father."

It's the one and only time in my life I never called him, 'King'.

* * *

It's when the snow falls for the third night in a row, a week after Mother, that I lose Father, too.

Pascal and I do nothing, only sit on the bed.

Father and me and Pascal. The three of us had buried Mother together.

Pascal and me. We have to bury Father together.

I pull Pascal to me, and cry into his fur.

* * *

The next two days pass by in a tearful blur.

My hands and Pascal are the only thing that keep me aware of reality. Pascal cries for food, and my hands scream for relief from digging.

Pascal gets his dinner, but hands do not get relief.

When Father's next to Mother, I find two sticks and bind them together with twine. I make a cross, not for religion, but for me. I want to go outside and know where their bodies are. Father did it for Mother, I do it for him.

I cry over their bodies and silently demand why I lost them so quickly.

I demand why the plague arrives and steals lives.

I demand for my King and Queen to return.

* * *

Something crashes in the house.

Pascal and I shoot out of the bed and stagger down the hallway.

"Who's there?" I shouted and grab the one weapon I have, a long piece of their bed. I had to destroy it for firewood and because the memories haunted me. Pascal and I sleep in my room now.

I storm down into the house to see a young man digging into the cupboards. I scream at him and he turns around, shock on his face. It changes into recognition when he sees me, which is strange because I don't know him.

We both stand still, gazing at each other.

He's handsome, with facial hair only on his chin. He has broad shoulders and dark brown hair that falls into his eyes and around his neck. He doesn't look too big, but his biceps are tight and strong in the cotton sleeves that cover the rest of his arms.

"What are you doing here?" I have to summon my nerve. A looter is one thing. A looter that's a man is something else. I wish I had brought my cloak so I could cover myself. I'm in my nightgown.

He stands still, not speaking.

"I said, 'what are you doing here'." I demand.

His face changes and darkens with sadness.

"I don't know what to do," he mumbles and to my surprise, he holds his hands up and walks slowly to me. I nearly take a step back but tell myself that he seems to be on the defense. "I don't have any other ideas. I'm sorry."

I glare at him, unsure what to say. He's yards from me now.

"You were going to steal from me," I accuse.

He nods, ashamed. Pink floods his fair skin, and I nearly blink at the sight of it. His eyes are light brown, almost hazel.

"Why?" It's a terrible question, but I ask.

He looks at me, meeting my eyes though he's taller than me.

"I lost my family." He said, and then he gestures around. "And it looks like you've lost yours, too."

"Not all of it," I glance down at Pascal.

The man smiles. "Same here." He then whistles and my eyes widen when a dog, I think it's a dog, stalks in from around the corner of one of the kitchen walls.

The dog has thick white fur, tinged with gray, and brown eyes. He looks more wolf-like, with an angular jaw and slightly spaced, pointed ears. His tail is definitely wolf-like, a bushy long mass of white-gray fur.

"That's Maximus." The man introduces him. Maximus looks at Pascal and makes no move to eat him.

"And you are?" I turn my wide eyes back to the man, the looter.

The man doesn't smile.

"To those I steal from, I'm Flynn Rider." He says. He lives two lives?

I stiffen. "Are you still going to steal from me?"

"No. We've met before." He says, and it confuses me. "You know my name."

I try to think of where I could have seen him. I can't think, though. My mind keeps going back to my King and Queen, to my late parents.

I glare at him, now on the offense. I hold up my weapon, threatening. "I don't know you."

"Of course you do," Flynn Rider says, and then his hand goes to my weapon. He grabs it, and slowly takes it from me. It falls to the floor, and Pascal, usually easily startled, doesn't flinch.

Flynn Rider leans into me, and I nearly lean back. When had he gotten in front of me?

He whispers. "Checkmate."

It all comes back in a flash.

I used to play chess all the time outside in the spring up to autumn. No one left me in peace, only bothered me and harassed me with anything they could throw at me. I hated it, but endured it with a smile. Rumors went around, and never stopped, about the Mendels. About my King, my Queen, and me.

One day, after the groups had finished with the taunts, a young man left the already leaving group to play with me. He had waved them away, insisting that they didn't know anything. He had found me in tears and offered to play with me.

He had made them all bother me a little bit less, but I saw him more and more after that. He played with me often, up until the coldest day in autumn that announced winter.

And then the plague arrived.

"Eugene?" I whisper.

Eugene smiles faintly. "We were best friends in the spring, Rapunzel," he calls me by my name.

"A spring friendship finds itself buried in the winter," I murmur and Eugene frowns.

"You weren't so negative."

"I had everyone, once upon a time," I sniffle.

"Me too," he sighs, and his eyes go to our companions watching us. "Danger's over, Pascal."

Pascal says nothing, only pads to the fireplace, his fur bushing out. He's unused to company. It had only been me and him for long time.

Eugene looks at me.

"Nothing will ever be the same again," he voices what I think.

I pull away from Eugene, and walk to Pascal, crouching down to pet him behind the ears.

"Before the plague, everything was fine." I sigh. Eugene and Maximus come up behind me.

"After the plague, everything was ruined." My eyes go to the wall, to where my King and Queen are buried.

_Nothing will ever be the same again._


	2. Makeshift Bed

Chapter Two

Eugene goes home after a short while. The silence that lapses over the two of us is awkward. We're too sad to try to fill it in with a conversation. When he leaves, I wish for his return tomorrow. He doesn't say when he'll be back. He just nods at me and he and Maximus walk out into the snow.

It's dark when he leaves, around dusk. The sun's light had died around late afternoon, but at dusk the sky looks like it is midnight.

I sit around with Pascal when Eugene leaves. I feed Pascal and try to brush his fur the wrong way, just to give him something to do. While Pascal aggressively licks his fur the correct way, I settle on my bed with an old tale of love and lose myself in the words.

* * *

I wake up with Pascal so close to my face that I nearly sneeze.

"Mornin'," I mumble and sit up. My hair is all over the place. I brush it back with my hands and comb through it lazily, waking up slowly. I look around my room and climb off the bed.

I leave my light cream walls behind and walk into the living room. There's no sign of Eugene or Maximus anywhere.

In the kitchen, I make a quick break feast of cold bread and fresh melted snow in a cup. Pascal nibbles on a freshly caught mouse by my feet. He must have caught it before he sat on my face because the mouse's fur appears damp with melting snow.

"At least your food is warm," I murmur aloud, thinking of what the mouse tastes like. Maybe a little like chicken? It doesn't look good, but I wasn't a cat. . .

* * *

At dinner, I find Pascal eating yet another mouse.

I turn back to the stove-

A knock on the door startles me.

I hurry to the door, wondering if I should bring my piece of wood. I shake my head at myself, and my hand goes to the doorknob. I prepare myself for any sort of situation - a heavy object flying to my head, someone knocking me down trying to loot the house, a man pinning me to the wall- and turn the doorknob, opening the door.

Eugene stands in the threshold, weak sunlight shining down on his figure from behind. I blink when I see his attire, and what he's carrying. Eugene's dressed in a thick wool dark cream jacket with a fur-lined hood. His brown bucket top boots are covered in snow, and the hood is off of his head though he's wearing some sort of ear covering. The ear covering is made of two thick balls of fluff connected by a fluffy rope. The ends of Eugene's dark cream pants that match his wool jacket are tucked in his boots and I blink down at Eugene's items.

It looks like a suitcase, only made of soft leather instead of wood. I step aside to let Eugene in, seeing the redness of his face and nose. I feel fur brush past my legs and see Maximus follow Eugene inside.

I peek my head out of the threshold, taking a step outside in the snow, and look around, hoping no one followed Eugene. I see no one and close the door.

Eugene's still standing in the cold foyer, and I shoo him into the kitchen. "Sorry, um, you can go to the kitchen. It's warmer there."

Eugene smiles, sniffling, and Maximus follows his master into the warm kitchen. I take a second to feel gratitude that I had gotten dressed this morning, though it's not warm attire. I'm only wearing a light pink cotton dress that reaches my knees and soft slippers made of wool.

I make myself busy by preparing Maximus and Eugene a cup, well, a bowl for Maximus, of fresh peppermint tea. I grind the peppermint into little chunks and boil water on the stove. I pour the two ingredients into their cup and bowl, and stir quickly, adding sugar. When it's ready, I turn around only to find Eugene right behind me.

"Here you go," I say, handing Eugene his cup. I find Maximus, sitting adorably close to Pascal, and set the bowl in front of him. "Drink up."

Eugene takes a seat at the table and I join him, fetching him a plate of cold bread. "Sorry about the bread. I'd heat it up, but um. . ."

"It's fine, thank you," Eugene's deep voice makes something in me grow warm. I'm glad to have someone else to talk to.

"How was your day?" I say, and then add awkwardly, "morning, I mean?"

"I fell in a snow drift." Eugene mumbles, his light brown eyes going to my face as I nibble on my bread. "It wasn't really a high point of my day."

"I just realized what Pascal was eating," I say, gesturing to my cat who was beginning to clean his whiskers. "I hope he's the one who will throw it out."

Eugene smiles a bright smile. "I could do it for you."

"No, that's okay," and then I think of something. "He'll have to eat the next one outside. I hear that's how it started."

"The fleas?" Eugene looks at Pascal and then at Maximus.

"I heard that, yes." I don't like the distress that begins to make Eugene's red cheeks turn rose red. "But they're not scratching, so we're fine."

Eugene's mouth closes, and he clicks his tongue a few times. "Okay." He says, and then unconvincingly adds, "If Max catches anything, I'll throw him out."

I say nothing because I can already see the pain forming in his eyes at the thought of doing so. I put my hand on his hands on the table. Of what he has, the thick coat, the ear covering, and the boots, Eugene has no gloves. "Your hands are cold."

"I lost my gloves in a raid," Eugene says, and then he looks at me sullenly, "someone took them."

I say lightly, "Serves you right," and rub his hands against mine fiercely. For a little bit, there's nothing other than the sound of two people and two animals breathing. Eugene sinks back against his chair, and I notice the dark circles under his closed eyes. Pity fills me as I think of the unwanted sleep I've been getting, and the restless sleep Eugene probably suffers through every night.

"Hey," I say gently, and shake him. He rouses slowly, his light brown eyes opening. I see that somehow he has fallen asleep sitting up. "Why don't you sleep by the fireplace?" I don't know if it is lit, but I know how to light it. Father made sure to teach me how.

I get up from the table before Eugene can protest and hide my tears with my hands. I walk to the living room and grab the poker. My emerald eyes survey the wood and I'm pleased to see that the fire is still ablaze from the night before. I poke the wood and the flames blaze hotter, warmer.

I stand back up, setting the poker where it belongs, and glance back at the table. Eugene has fallen asleep again. This time, I ignore his sleeping body and head to the linen closet in the middle of the house. It's right by the guest washroom, and I remind myself to offer to wash Eugene's clothes.

I dig around for warm comforters and find Mother's pale sky blue comforter. I freeze and my hands gently hold the folded mass of pale sky blue. I lean my head down to sniff it, and I feel a small thrill when I smell Mother's perfume on it. There's more of her perfume, in her bottle on her vanity that I haven't touched. Going in Mother's and Father's room hurts, but when had I washed their bedspread?

I hear a meow and look down to see Pascal. He claws at the wall and I crouch down, holding out the blanket. "You still smell our Queen?" I ask him, my voice thick because I'm trying not to cry.

Pascal meows again and buries his head in the blanket. The sight makes a tear fall and I hurriedly wipe it. I use my free hand and pat Pascal's head, and then I stand up to find more comforters.

I walk back into the living room and lay out the comforters on top of each other in layers. I remove pillows from the plush, slightly damp loveseat, and put them near the top of the layered comforters. It's a makeshift bed. I'd let him sleep in mine, but those few months I had known him, we were friends, best friends he said, and nothing more.

I shake Eugene at the table again. "Eugene, I made you a bed."

Eugene yawns, his eyes opening slowly. He still looks exhausted. "You did?"

"Mh-hm," I hum in confirmation. I help him out of his seat, not because he's incapable, but because he still looks half-asleep. I steer him to the makeshift bed and lay him down. He kicks off his boots and shrugs out of his jacket. I lay both items on one of the loveseats and take his offered ear covering. I take a second to marvel at them.

"Ear muffs." Eugene's voice, a little more awake, startles me. I look at him, turning pink.

"What was that?"

Amusement enters Eugene's sleepy eyes. "They're called ear muffs."

"Oh," I hum in fascination. I place them on his jacket and grab the poker to stir the fire a bit more. "Are you warm?"

"The fire's nice, yes," Eugene says, and I turn to see him get more comfortable on the bed I made for him. Maximus settles at the foot of the bed and I smile when I see Pascal tentatively pad up to the wolf-like dog and curl beside him.

"I'll be in my room, right over there," I point and Eugene nods, though his eyes never saw where my hand pointed. Eugene's eyes are closed, and within seconds, I see his chest begin to heave slower.

He's knocked out cold.

I smile, a sight he wouldn't see, and put the poker down on the mantle of the fireplace. I walk to my room, leaving Pascal, and pull out the same book from earlier yesterday.

Somehow, I fall asleep reading the words.


	3. Bad News

Chapter Three

I'm being shaken awake.

"Hmm?" I mumble sleepily, my eyes slowly opening. I blink when I see Eugene looming over me, and I realize he's on my bed. He's shouting my name and I mumble louder. "What is it, Eugene?"

Eugene stops shaking me and begins to explain. "A messenger came by this morning. He's been stopping at every house. There's a gathering at the Square and the King's ordered for everyone well and alive to attend."

His words sink in fully when I sit up and rub sleep out of my eyes. Eugene sits on the bed so his feet rest on the floor.

"Everyone well and alive?" I echo Eugene's words.

Eugene's light brown eyes meet my gaze. "No one sick, and obviously no one dead."

I nod, somber, and look at Eugene, who is in his coat from yesterday. "I'm guessing the fire went out?"

"Yes," Eugene says, and he pulls me to my feet after he gets to his. "We've got two hours to be there. The messenger says it starts at noon."

I nod again, and head to the living room. I'm still in the clothes from last night, so I'm not in my nightgown. I don't know whether to light the fire or not, so I prepare break feast while trying to think of a solution. I've come up with nothing when I set the table.

I look for Eugene and find him in the guest washroom. I sit at the table waiting for him, my eyes going to Pascal and Maximus eating side-by-side. Pascal and Maximus are sharing a meal of bread, and I don't find any mouse bones in the kitchen. Eugene must have thrown them out.

"Thank you," I say when he walks to the table.

He smiles. "I made sure to wipe it down more than once." He joins me at the table. "Thank _you_ for making me a meal once again."

I smile, blushing. "No problem."

We eat in silence, and then I ask, "Is it a formal affair?"

"No," Eugene says, and then he smiles darkly. "I think the King just wants to see who made it."

"Oh," I hum, an unsure response. Eugene peeks at Maximus, and mutters under his breath. "What?"

"He hates cats." Eugene says, sipping his steaming peppermint tea.

I smile. "Pascal must be special."

"Indeed," Eugene hums, and then his lips are hidden by a tea cup.

He kindly does the dishes when we finish and I busy myself with pulling on warm clothes. I find a cotton blouse and put a deep green bodice with matching skirt over it. I pull on knee-length cotton stockings and fur-lined boots. My bodice is laced with dark green, and the cloak I pull on is dark brown, lined with white fur on the hood. I wish for a pair of those mysterious ear muffs, and instead pull on a wool hat on top of my chocolate brown hair.

I walk out of my room and walk to the front door. I smile when I see Eugene, Pascal, and Maximus standing by the door in the foyer. I hold up a pair of gloves for Eugene. "Here."

He takes them gratefully. "Thanks," the gloves are my Father's. They are darker than Eugene's dark cream jacket and pants and his hands disappear in them. He smiles, his eyes going to the door. "They're warm already."

"Yes, well," I say simply and wrap a scarf around Pascal's neck since he insists on coming with us. "Are you ready?"

"Whenever you are," Eugene holds the door open for the three of us.

I walk past him, catch a whiff of his familiar spicy cologne, and hope he doesn't see me blush.

* * *

The walk to the square was pleasantly short, but bitterly cold.

My nose has gone numb and I sniffle repeatedly. I can feel the paleness in my face and I force my numbing feet to take more steps. We're early, I think, but the crowd is thickening as we arrive.

I feel someone poke me and I turn my head to the left, smiling when I see Alyson Sparrow, one of my very few friends. She's shivering, her light brown hair hidden in a wool cap. Her gray eyes light up when she sees Pascal by my side.

She puts a gloved hand on my shoulder and says nothing.

I nod at her. _I'm glad you made it, too._

I look to my right to see Eugene being greeted by friends, and I wave at him when he looks back at me. He smiles back, a tiny little thing, and walks off to his friends when one pointed off into the crowd. He waves, and then he's gone.

I turn to Alyson. "Is your. . .?"

She nods and grief fills her eyes. My arms capture her in a hug. Her parents have passed. "I'm sorry, Aly."

Alyson sniffles. "It's okay."

_No, it's not._ I think bitterly, and then I bend down to scoop up Pascal. Alyson takes the offered cat and smiles, her eyes on his bushed out tawny fur.

"I missed you, too," she laughs when Pascal manages to lick her nose. The crowd around us is busy, everyone is trying to find familiar faces. Now I see why we had to be here early. Though there's at least thirty minutes before noon arrives, everyone wants to find their friends.

Alyson puts Pascal down and grabs my hand, tugging me into the crowd. "Ellie's been looking for you."

Ellie is Alyson's little sister; she's younger than Alyson by a year. "Oh, really?"

"Of course, Rapunzel. She missed you." Alyson leads me near the back of the crowd. I see Ellie sitting on the snow, and I scowl at her.

"Aren't you cold?" I ask Ellie.

Ellie shakes her head, and her gray eyes go to her sister. "I'm hot." She must be, I see sweat on her forehead.

"You're mad, Ellie," Alyson says fondly, but there's pain in her eyes. I look around.

"Where's Piers?" I ask, and the two of them stiffen.

"Piers is around, somewhere," Ellie says her next words darkly, "he's looking for his friends. What you should be asking is 'where's your folks'? They're dead, Rapunzel."

"Ellie-" Alyson starts.

I interrupt. "I know about them, Ellie. Alyson told me." She hadn't told me using words, but. . .

Ellie's hand goes to her belly, and I understand why she's hot now. "I just found out a week ago." She whispers. "How can I bring a baby into this world?"

I know her wedding ring is on her ring finger in her gloves. Piers and Ellie became official years ago, and tied the knot last summer. Now Ellie's with-child after the plague. . .

"The plague is gone," Alyson murmurs to us, but she knows we can all only hope. "The baby won't be infected when he gets here."

Ellie tries to nod in reassurance but I can see the tears budding. I pull Ellie off of the snow and capture her in a hug. I want to cry, for her tears, and for their lost parents, but my eyes burn from the icy wind and sting from the tears. I blink, and a few fall. It's all I can manage for right now. I'll break down at home.

The three of us cling to each other and stand in the back of the crowd. Ellie's still in tears, not sobbing, and Alyson looks upset. A loud noise rang out, and I dimly recognize the sound of the bell being rang. In the middle of the square, there is a huge bell that lies on a wheeled table. When the bell is not by the fountain, there are usually no announcements to be made.

When the plague first arrived, the bell had been by the fountain for weeks, and then the snow buried it. Alyson and Ellie start to break through the crowd and I follow them, feeling the crowd merge back behind us.

When I'm close to the front, I stop following the Sparrows and peek around heads. The King is standing by the bell, next to a man I don't know. The man is dressed in gold robes and I realize that he is the new announcer.

The King looks miserable in his gold attire. His eyes are etched with dark circles and I see that his hands are shaking. His shoulders are slumped with grief, and as more people notice this, misgivings spread throughout the cold crowd in anxious whispers.

Ellie's in front of me and I see her stiffen. I look around the tense crowd and then my eyes go back to the King. Who was it?

The announcer, an aged man, speaks. "The Queen," he says, and then he pauses to lower his head. The crowd cries. I feel pain make the unshed tears finally fall. The Queen had been very kind. I had never known her, not personally, but she made an effort to visit every household during the summer months.

She had been beautiful, her amber-brown eyes shiny and bright while her dark hair added to her mysteriously heated appearance. She had smiled at me after meeting Mother and Father.

"Don't believe what you hear," were the only ones she had ever spoken to me. Her voice had been soft, musical even. She was the only Queen I had ever known, and the best. I would miss knowing that she was no longer with us. The King would rule alone, but he still had-

The announcer interrupts our cries with a loud ring of the bell.

We all fell silent.

"The Prince," the announcer starts, but the crowd doesn't hear the rest. Everyone starts wailing and I see women faint dead away. I put my hands to my face and cry.

The crowd's cries fill my head and I wail with them. I hadn't fallen for the Prince like many of the young maidens around me had, but the King had lost both his wife and son to the same disease that had robbed many of us our families. I wail for his lost.

When the announcer shushes us again, everyone's a mess. The women that are regaining their senses awake in tears, the news fresh on their arousing minds. The men look teary-eyed and I glimpse Eugene wiping his eyes on his sleeve. We were all lost.

The announcer began to speak. "There is t-t-to be a-another gathering a w-week from now. A-All are r-r-required to c-c-come to it, if you are well by that time." He's trying not to wail like the rest of us. The heavy gust of cold ice hasn't let up. The tears on my face begin to burn, searing my cheeks.

The King spoke, and everyone leans forward eagerly. "I-I," his lips have turned blue, "I'm sorry to give you all such bad news."

Someone cries, "Your Highness, thank you for telling us!"

The words spread through the crowd like wild fire, and we all echo the person's words. "Your Highness, thank you for telling us! Your Highness, thank you for telling us!"

The King manages to smile, and it sets off more wails. King Christopher looks tired and lost and very sad but he still tries to smile. We had never had a better King. I wish Father and Mother were here to see him smile for his grieving Kingdom.

"Thank you all for coming," the King says, though his tired eyes roam the crowd and I can see him counting heads.

I follow his eyes and see that the crowd has shrunk by half. I bit my lip to hold back the tears and everyone, including me, wave at the King when he and his announcer turn away. The falling ice is frozen, and it catches in our hair.

The crowd slowly dissipates after their leave. I hug Ellie once more. "You can come over any time you need to."

Alyson nods, and I see her lips have turned blue as well. We've all stood out in the snow too long. "Same for you, Rapunzel. We've got Piers with us. You should come over today."

I think to Eugene. "Eugene's with me."

Curiosity fills the eyes of the Sparrows. Ellie only mumbles, "Don't give in." I nudge her with my elbow and she smiles, a little sad. "You don't want a baby around now, Chocolate." She says my nickname, referring to my hair.

"He's hardly thinking about babies," I say, and then add, "we're just friends."

Alyson nods while Ellie looks unconvinced. Ellie shrugs and then shivers. "Now I'm cold." Her lips have turned blue as well. I can assume mine are blue, too.

The Sparrows live across two roads from my house. It easily takes ten minutes to reach them. I nudge Ellie again, this time with affection. "Stay warm, Ellie."

"Yes," Ellie murmurs, and I see softness in her eyes and realize she's thinking of the baby. "You, too."

I smile tightly and wave the Sparrows 'goodbye'. I scoop up Pascal from the snow and kiss the top of his head. "Come on, Pascal."

We begin to walk away from the crowd.

I hear my name and turn to see Eugene and Maximus trotting to us. Eugene waves me over, and shivering, I walk the last few steps to close the distance between us.

"There's a rumor going around," Eugene says and I go stiff, thinking about if he's heard the rumors about my family. "A rumor about the next gathering."

I relax and tip my head to the side. "What about it?"

Eugene's lips are blue and he licks them. His breath billows in front of me. "Some sort of contest, I hear."

"A contest for what?" I try to smile but I can no longer feel my lips too good.

Eugene shrugs at that, and looks at Pascal in my arms. "Max would never let me pick him up."

"He's a dog." I say matter-of-factly, and then add, "Pascal used to hate me grabbing him," Pascal is purring in my arms. His emerald eyes gaze at Eugene and his long tail is close to his nose.

Eugene rolls his eyes. "Are you strictly a cat person?" We begin walking back to the house, away from the Square.

"No. I like dogs." I say, and glance down at Maximus. "He looks like a wolf, though."

"His fangs are long and painful," Eugene says and I start laughing though every time I inhale air, it burns my lungs. "He's part wolf. His father was a wolf and his mother was a dog."

"That explains the tail," I say and Eugene chuckles beside me.

* * *

When we get back to the house, it is nearly pitch black.

I scramble through the dark, finding a candle. Maximus growls when we sit around the house. Eugene goes on high alert.

"What is it, Max?" He asks, and I hear a creak behind me. It's one of the old floorboards by my parents' bedroom.

The idea of a looter in my house near my parents' bedroom makes me angry. I open my mouth to shout, but Eugene sees me in the candlelight and his hands goes to my mouth. He slowly takes the candle from me, and his light brown eyes appear dark hazel in the gloom.

He whispers, "Shush."

I nod obediently though my hands itch. I want to knock the looter senseless.

We slowly walk to the living room from the kitchen; Eugene pauses by the fireplace to grab the poker. Eugene hands me the candle.

Whatever it is, it's not supposed to be here. Pascal's a bushy, tawny mass of fur beside me. He's crouching low, ready to pounce.

Eugene looks at me and mouths, "One. . ."

I look at Maximus and see him looking similar to Pascal, fangs bared and tail coiled.

"Two. . ."

We edge toward my parents' bedroom.

"Three!" Eugene shouts and we hurtle ourselves into the bedroom.

There's a loud crash, and a shout. The candle somehow goes out in the darkness, and I'm knocked down. I land on something hard and my head snaps back. I scream, the sound cut off when my head collides with whatever I fell on, and then I hear Maximus snarl.

Something crashes again and I hear frantic shuffling and then someone groans. I try to sit up but my head hurts too much. The air is freezing from us being gone so long and the fireplace unlit for hours. The warmth in my body seems to run out of me as my chest heaves and I struggle to see.

Everything goes quiet.

"Eugene?" I whisper.

There's the sound of more shuffling and then someone glows beside me with a loud ripping sound. I squint and make out Eugene looming over me once again. He holds the lit match to the candle and worry fills his eyes.

"Rapunzel?" He says slowly.

"Yes?" I say, and try to sit up. Eugene helps me. "What happened?"

"He got away," Eugene says, angry. His eyes look at my face. "You're bleeding. I'll find something."

I let him go, but I'm praying for his quick return because I suddenly realize why a young woman can't be alone in her house after the plague. Eugene comes back, holding bandages and gauze. He brushes back my hair and wads up a strip of gauze; he gently pushes it to my head and I try not to wince.

"I must have scratched it on the bedpost," I say, looking at the wood legs of the bed that are inches from me. "I'm fine."

"Shush," Eugene says sharply, and I go silent. I close my eyes and let him tend to my wound. Eventually, he stops working and I gently touch the bandaged area. Somehow, he made the gauze stick to my face and I feel him begin to wipe away parts of my face with a damp cloth. "Are you okay?"

"I'm cold," I say honestly, "but I can fix that." I start to get up but Eugene stops me.

"Let me do that," He says, giving me a gentle look. It's odd how it makes his face transform. The dark circles suddenly seem less prominent and his eyebrows slope down gently, giving him a relaxed expression. His eyes, dark hazel in the candlelight, seem very warm and somehow intense. He helps me to my feet however, but only makes me sit down on his makeshift bed.

"Where did he go?" I ask, my eyes looking for the escaped looter.

"He ran out the front after he hit me with this," Eugene holds up an object and I realize that it is a frying pan. "Hurt like hell."

I smile wanly, and then I'm in a panic. I streak to the kitchen and dive into the cupboards. He took everything, all of it. All that's left is a glop of frozen butter and the empty, clean teacups. I'm in tears before I realize it and Eugene captures me in a hug.

"I hate them," I sob, "Why can't they just leave us alone? Why do they have to steal from people, knowing that they could end someone's life?"

Eugene says nothing, only gently strokes my back.

In his arms, I cry.

I cry for Ellie's and Alyson's loss, I cry for the King's late Queen and Prince. I cry for _my_ King and Queen. I cry for the looters' souls, and what they have stolen for me.

I cry until I can't cry anymore.


	4. Outside

Chapter Four

My dreams are filled with Mother and Father. They are smiling as they gaze at me, their green eyes glowing with love. I smile back, tearfully, and reach out for them. Mother reaches her hand out to me, and I can hear her voice in my ear as she called me, 'Princess'.

Her fingertips touch mine, and I relax when our fingers lock. I've missed her so much. It could have only been months since I've lost them both, but it feels like years.

"Mother, Father," I say and then I pull away from Mother. I curtsey. "My King, and my Queen. . ." My voice is low. I'm trying not to cry.

Father bows, his green eyes full of affection. "Your Highness."

I gape when Mother curtseys as well. "Your Highness," her head is low but then she looks up at me and her green eyes twinkle.

"Your Highnesses," I curtsey a second time. They both smile warm grins that make my heart swell and my eyes begin to water.

I hear Pascal mew and I turn. "We're missing our Prince." I say, and then I look over my shoulder at my smiling parents. "I'll fetch him."

I look ahead of me again, ready to bend down and scoop up Pascal, when my eyes open.

I sit up, bewildered. My cheeks feel wet and I try not to sob as I realize that I am awake. I see Pascal sitting next to me and he licks my wrist, mewing in what sounds like an apology. I sigh and it comes out as a sob. I bite my bottom lip and swallow hard.

When I enter the kitchen, I'm swamped into tears when I see Eugene digging through the cupboards. He's not wearing his hat and his dark brown hair is ruffled. Eugene turns to glance at me, flops of hair getting into his eyes. He sees the tears and abandons the cupboards, rushing over to me.

"I'm sorry," he says and somehow I'm surrounded by the intense warmth radiating from his skin and his cologne. "About what happened. I'm sorry."

I want to pull away, but I don't. I make my arms wrap, attempt to, around Eugene's large torso. For a second, I wonder if this was how Mother hugged Father. If her arms had stretched to try and hold as much as Father as she could. I wonder if she tried to smell Father's cologne and relax into his chest like I am doing right now. . .

Smell his cologne-

I realize that the hug has lasted much longer than it should have and I pull away. Eugene smiles and his cheeks look pink. Has he been out in the snow or is he blushing? I can feel the heat in my face.

"I. . ." Eugene seems to stutter for a moment. "I haven't found much I'm afraid."

"Its fine, thanks for looking." I mumble and go to the cupboards. I sigh when I see how empty they are. Eugene busies himself with tending the fire in the fireplace, and I try to keep my hopes up as I search the cupboards for anything Eugene might have missed.

I knew Eugene had sharp eyes and having gone through them last night, I should have known better. I stop examining the empty cupboards and sit at the table, my face in my hands, as I try to figure out what we would eat.

We.

That makes me look up sharply. Eugene, who had been watching me for who knows how long from one of the kitchen walls, asks, "What?"

I look at him and shake my head, wondering. Why was Eugene still here?

"Where's Pascal?" I ask.

"Outside." Eugene says and I shoot up from my seat. I'm five feet away from the front door when I'm suddenly pinned to the wall. I'm overwhelmed with cologne and though Eugene has made sure to keep my head from colliding into the wall, I'm dizzy when he gazes at me.

"You can't go outside." Eugene says, his voice low. His light brown eyes gaze intently at me, and then they move up to my head.

"Why?" I ask quietly, trying to be subtle about pushing Eugene away. He's pushing against me, and I can feel heat flooding my cheeks again. I've never been so close to a man before, nor have I felt every inch of him. Nor have I-

"For one, your head is bleeding again." Eugene says and backs away an inch. "Another thing, it started snowing."

"And another thing. . ." Eugene says, and then his eyes darken. He seems reluctant to tell me something. "You just can't go out yet."

"Why?" I ask, louder. I'm a little more comfortable, but something in me wants Eugene pressed against me again. "And how many excuses do you have?"

"I could think of a thousand." Eugene says shyly, but then on a serious note he says, "You don't want to go outside now."

I scowl at him and try to regain my bearings. I clear my throat and Eugene, realizing that he is still forcing me into the wall, takes a few steps back. I go to my room and dress into something other than one of my more modest nightgowns, and put a scarf over my cotton blouse.

"Eugene, could you find some firewood?" I call from my room. I can see Eugene fussing with the cupboards again, but he can't see me. "It's in my parents' room."

"Okay!" He calls and I smile when he ducks from sight.

I creep to the front door and quietly let myself out. _If he finds me, my excuse is that I need to get Pascal_, I tell myself. It was wonderful to have someone care about me again.

I sneeze when a snowflake lands on my nose. I hear a mew beside me and turn. I grin when I see Pascal hiding under a thorn bush.

"Now, Pascal," I chide him playfully, "that is hardly the warmest place to be."

Pascal sneezes to prove my point and climbs from under the bush. Someone taps my shoulder and I whirl around.

It is one of Piers' friends. His name is Benjamin and his eyes are bloodshot. Exhaustion is etched on Benjamin's face and I feel my heart rip at the grief that makes his shoulders slump.

"I'm here to bury your dead," Benjamin's voice is in a dull monotone. I don't understand until I look past him and I see many men marching the streets pulling wagons and wheelbarrows. Their heads are hung low and, like Benjamin, they are exhausted. The wheelbarrows and wagons are carrying bodies and I nearly retch when I see lumps on them and their decaying flesh.

"Won't you get sick?" I ask Benjamin, almost stammering.

He shakes his head. "Been doin' it for a week. Nothing yet." He says dully and then he asks. "Where're your folks?"

"Dead." I rasp. "Dead and buried."

"Good." Benjamin says, and his dark green eyes are very tired. He stands there in place and hangs his head. "I'm sorry for your loss, Rapunzel."

"I-It's fine," I say and my heart aches for Benjamin. I hold my arms out to hug him and he shies away.

"If I get anything, I don't want you to catch it." Benjamin says, caution animating him. He sighs and I pity him. "The bodies are being burned. The Kingdom wants it that way. Everyone who wanted their loved ones buried did it before we arrived."

"Thank you for stopping by," I try to be polite. Benjamin nods and turns away. It's at that moment that I smell Ben. I _really_ smell him. His clothes are stained with the stench of rotting flesh.

I rush past Pascal and vomit in the bushes. I feel suddenly feverishly sick and I cry when I think of the large number of bodies the men are pulling around. My stomach cramps as I retch and I'm in tears when Eugene finds me.

He says nothing, only waits for me to get my breath back, and then he helps me to my feet. His light brown eyes aren't angry, only concerned when he sees the lack of color in my face.

Somehow I'm back in my room again, except Eugene's there, rolling up my sleeves and taking off my scarf. He redresses my wound and begins to speak but I can't hear anything he's saying.

"Rapunzel," Eugene shakes me. "Rapunzel, can you hear me?"

"You were talking about the King," I mumble and when Eugene shakes his head, I realize I'm wrong.

Eugene looks anxious and on edge. His eyes are very vigilant and never leave my face. "Your head wound is infected. I've got to find someone to help us. It's bad."

"Oh," I slur and I suddenly understand why I was sweating the entire night. "Maybe Ellie."

"Ellie Sparrow?" Eugene is listening very carefully.

I nod slowly and wince when pain makes my head ache. "She knows Matilda. Matilda helps the King."

"Where are they now?"

The Sparrows? "At home, maybe." I then smile when I say, "Ellie's withchild with Piers' baby. She'll be around Matilda a lot."

Eugene nods and though he doesn't smile, his eyes light up when I mention Ellie's pregnancy. He looks around the house, debating something. He turns to me and helps me sit up.

"I can't leave you alone." Eugene says and his words start fading in and out. "I have to carry you."

"Why?" I mumble, and I don't hear his response.

Eugene helps me onto his back and I try to concentrate on keeping my arms around his neck. Eugene whistles to Maximus and Pascal, and then we're walking in the snow.

Benjamin and his body-searching crew are gone. The afternoon is quiet, not as sunny. The entire Kingdom seems to be asleep, or holding its breath.

I blink, and awake in a dream.

Mother is crying. "Flower, wake up." She cries. "Wake up, Flower."

Father is shaking me hard. "Rapunzel, wake up. Open your eyes."

I push them away, feeling queasy. "I want to sleep." I turn my head away from them.

Father is persistent.

"Wake up, Rapunzel!"

I sit up with a start and retch in a waiting bowl. I grab the bowl and moan.

Alyson had been shaking me awake and Ellie takes the bowl, holding her breath. Something is wiping at my face.

"Easy there," Alyson coos when I double over, my stomach cramping. "Don't move so much."

Piers and Eugene are leaning against the wall, looking ill at ease.

"Where's Mattie?" Ellie asks Piers.

Piers gives her a soft look. "I found her. She's on her way." He looks at me. "You okay?" His calm voice contradicts the worry in his bright blue eyes.

I nod wearily and lay back down again. I don't know whose bed I'm in. The room is aglow with bright candlelight.

When I'm being shaken again, I'm so tired I almost don't notice Matilda standing over me. Her sweet brown eyes are dark with worry, like Eugene's and Piers'. Her hand goes to my forehead.

She says to me. "Take it easy for a few days."

_How?_ I want to scream at her. _The looters took everything we have._

I stay quiet and only nod, and then I lose myself in my dreams where worry can't burden me.


	5. Baby Names

Chapter Five

It is amazing how awake I feel when my eyes open again. I sit up and rub at my eyes before I scan the room for Piers and Ellie. No one is in the room and I climb off the soft cotton bedspread.

I gaze around and remember from spending earlier nights here that I am in the guest room. Ellie and Alyson have their own room, their parents had a room for themselves, and that means that I am in the spare room.

I leave the room and walk into the beige-colored living room. Like my home, the Sparrows have a fireplace in the living room. Piers is attending to it, and he looks behind him as if he heard my near-silent approach. He smiles, "Hey, Rapunzel. How's your head?"

"Its fine," I say and look into the kitchen from where I am. "Where's the Sparrows?"

Piers sets the red-hot poker down on the marble side of the mantel and gets to his feet. His movements are stiff and I wonder how long he had been coaxing the firewood to ignite. "They walked to the Square to grab some food." His eyes go dark with worry. "Rumor has it that the King is giving away food. He hardly needs it now."

Alarm fills me. "Is he ill?"

"Heart-broken, yes." Piers sighs. His blue eyes go to the hardwood floor that we both are standing on and he seems to gather something inside himself before he looks up at me. "Hungry?"

"Not really," I am ravenous but I can hide it. Piers scoffs at me and walks past me to the kitchen, seamlessly grabbing my wrist and pulling me along. I take a seat at the kitchen table and then I realize who is missing.

"Where are Eugene and Pascal? And Maximus?" I pretend to worry like a mother hen, though I am worried as much as I'm hungry.

Piers blinks back at me from searching the cabinets under the sink. "They all went to grab some firewood. We've all decided to sleep in the living room. The bedrooms will be for people like yourself." He nods at me and turns to the cupboards.

"People like me?" I can tell I'm beginning to become annoying but Piers answers my questions like he is expecting them. Maybe he's been silent for a while and a talking girl has him chattering like a squirrel.

"Sick people," Piers says and then he catches the sad look on my face. "People who need help, we'll bring them here."

"What if they're ill?" I ask and immediately think of Ellie. In a few months, she'll become fragile. We don't need her exposed to anyone with the plague.

"We'll give them the best help we can. They'd have to sleep outside," Piers says and then his eyes darken a further shade of blue. "I don't want Ellie to catch anything." Our thoughts traveled the same distance, it seems.

"Mh-hm." I hum in agreement and we change topics after a short silence. He begins to run off baby names to me and I chuckle at some of them.

"What's so funny about 'Piers'?" Piers demands as he hands me a warm bowl of porridge. "I think it is clever."

"What will you do when she calls 'Piers' and you don't know which one she meant?" I giggle at Piers' defensiveness.

Piers rolls his blue eyes. Our playful bickering has brightened the kitchen. "Fine, Rapunzel. We'll call him Pierre."

The soft way he said the name made the giggles halt and a smile glow on my face. Pierre. It sounds pretty, even if it is for a baby boy.

"For a girl?" I ask and try to guess Piers idea. Piers says nothing; his large hands fuss with his dark hair as he ponders a girl version of 'Pierre'.

"I don't know," he says after a long moment. Suddenly, I can see why Ellie had grown fond of Piers once she knew him. The thoughtfulness in his bright blue eyes made him seem like a careful, one-step-ahead man. Piers is thoughtful, yes, but also impulsive. To me, Piers is like the older brother I never had.

The relaxed look in his eyes reminds me of Eugene. The way he helped me onto the living room floor after the looter had fled the house the other day. The gentle look in his light brown eyes that made him seem to care about me, like somehow we were like Piers and Ellie, like I was carrying Eugene's baby-

Piers snaps his fingers and the tiny _click_ makes me jump. "I got it!" He seems triumphant. His bright blue eyes are excited. "What about Petunia?"

I smile widely. "Like the flower?"

"That's right!" Piers hops off his seat and smiles. "Well, I mean, Ellie can come up with names, too, but, um. . . I like Petunia."

"Petunia?" A voice asks, gruff. Piers and I look to the living room to see Eugene tugging in a very long tree branch, much like the slender trunk of a pine tree. Piers races over to help and stands by Eugene's side when Eugene drops the tree branch.

Piers' eyes follow the tree branch past my viewpoint and he grins. "Did you cut down a pine tree?"

Eugene nods, looking tired. "I didn't want to have to go out for a while. Benjamin's coming to this side of the kingdom."

The thought of Benjamin's grueling duty makes the porridge want to come up again. I swallow hard and join them by the edge of the tree trunk. "Where are Pascal and Max?"

Eugene opens his mouth to reply, and then confusion floods his face. Piers and I watch as Eugene fumbles to explain. Piers exchanges glances with me. "Did you lose them?" Piers asks worriedly.

Eugene looks ready to disagree but only nods. He grimaces and points to the front door. "They followed me out. I thought they were right behind me when I came back in."

It's at the moment that a scream fills the air.

We all rush to the front door and fling it open.

Ellie and Alyson are sitting in the snow, looking pale in the face, but laughing. Pascal is licking Ellie's cheeks and Maximus is busy sniffing at Ellie's belly. His large wolfish head lifts up at us and he abandons Ellie, rushing straight to Piers. Piers cries out when he falls over and Maximus begins licking Piers face.

"Get off me!" Piers cries and then to me, he asks breathlessly, "Can you help Ellie?"

I obey and pull Ellie to her feet; Eugene assists Alyson to her feet as well. Ellie is still laughing and her gray eyes are bright when we all ask her what happened.

"Maximus figured out what I'm carrying Piers' baby!" She squeals in amusement. She swats Maximus away when he gets on his haunches to sniff at her belly again. "Pascal acted much calmer," she accuses Eugene.

Eugene looks too relieved to see Pascal and Maximus were safe. He smiled at her, looking very relieved and tired at the same time.

"What did Pascal do?" Piers asks Ellie; Piers' face was aglow in the bright outdoors. It was good to see everyone smiling. We all crowd inside the house and sit around in the living room. I busy myself with the fire while waiting for Ellie's response.

Ellie smiles, and her smile reminds me that a storm doesn't last for long.

"Pascal, after Max had knocked me over, kissed my nose!"

"He likes you," Alyson smiles and begins to pull off the two scarves that kept Ellie warm. Ellie is beginning to sweat in her layers of clothes.

"You think so?" Ellie gives Pascal and Maximus fond looks. Piers hands Ellie a bowl of porridge, and then he freezes. Tension fills the room and Pascal looks on edge when everyone went quiet.

"The rumors aren't true?" He asked, and worry made me stiffen.

Alyson soothes everyone. "We were late. It's an hourly thing. They're giving out more food later today, just before sunset."

"Oh," I exhale in relief.

Ellie nods and I saw her try to relax against the loveseat. "They give out a basket for everyone, but you can't lose it."

"Sounds easy enough," Eugene says beside me. "Show up, grab food, leave. Show up the next time, keep the basket from before. . . Mh-hm. Easy enough." He was mumbling. He must have been working all day.

"I'll bring Benjamin over," Piers says, patting Eugene on the back. "When will you be going home?" Piers asks quietly, looking over at me.

Ellie and Alyson protest. "She can't leave!"

"It'll be fine, Ellie," the way Ellie's eyes fill with fear clue me in. "The baby won't be here for months."

"B-But-" Ellie starts but Piers kisses her on the temple.

"I'll stick around for a bit," I soothe Ellie and Alyson. Piers flashes me a grateful glance and that is when I know that it isn't only the Sparrows who don't want me to leave.

I gently touch at the bandage on my head and sigh. "If I catch anything, I'm out of here, all right?"

"All right." Ellie murmurs, sounding sad. She blinks hard and her gray eyes try to brighten. "Have you come up with any baby names yet?"

"I have!" Piers exclaims, sounding proud. "Pierre and Petunia."

"Ooh," Alyson coos. "I like Pierre."

Ellie smiles and the debate begins once more.

Eugene relaxes beside me, his eyes drifting shut. I curl up, my head on something soft, and a warm hand goes to my hair. Ellie and Alyson's voices fade away.

Before I lose consciousness, a long blanket covers my skin. I hear Eugene sigh sleepily and someone says gently, "Get some sleep."

I realize I'm lying on Eugene's lap when Eugene stirs faintly, overwhelmed with drowsiness.

When it is sunset, Eugene and I are both asleep.


End file.
